


What I've Done

by Amoreanonyname



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bad Parent John Winchester, Domestic Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Domestic Winchesters (Supernatural), Episode: s14e13 Lebanon, HARD gen, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Married Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, No Smut, POV John Winchester, Resurrected John Winchester, Wincest - Freeform, gencest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:42:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26335102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amoreanonyname/pseuds/Amoreanonyname
Summary: He wasn’t going to say anything more about it. He could tell, Dean was happy to see him, but wasn’t going to humor this topic. Dean, young Dean would jump to obey John, to answer John’s questions, but this was an older Dean who was more loyal to someone else now. More loyal to his brother. John wasn’t the priority here, and he realized with another guilty jump in his stomach that he never should have been.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, John Winchester/Mary Winchester
Comments: 20
Kudos: 174





	What I've Done

**Author's Note:**

> I just binged on a bunch of third-party POV Wincest, and this happened! I feel like moreso than other third parties, John would get stuck on "disgust" because not only are his boys *like that*, but them being *like that* puts John's failures on blast. He wouldn't be able to get past how warped it is, because he wouldn't be able to separate that from *how* they got warped. 
> 
> That is, John would never be able to get over being disgusted with himself. Hope that makes sense!

John wasn’t sure what the hell he expected, but it wasn’t _this_.

Then again, he’d never thought nearly hard enough about the future. 

He’d raised his sons in the life. He’d had no choice, really. _Something_ was after Sam. He didn’t know what, or when, or why, or how, but it had something to do with Yellow Eyes, and his boys had to be ready. They had to be able to fight whatever might come for them.

The thing was, he hadn’t really meant to _raise_ them that way. Not their whole lives, not their whole childhoods. John had always meant for it to _end_ eventually. For it to stop. Maybe taking out Yellow Eyes would kill him, but he expected his boys to grow up and live on and leave all this mess behind. He never thought, at any given time, that they’d still be doing this next year. Decades went by with John thinking victory was right around the corner. No wonder Sammy lost patience. 

He wanted them close. He wanted them to depend on each other. He wanted Dean to look out for his brother. He wanted Sam to listen to his brother. It was better that way, easier that way. He knew it was wrong, especially what he put on Dean. John felt guilty all the time - but again, they were always so close, he was always going to fix it later, after this job, after the next lead…

Every now and then they got _too_ close. Dean would get lippy like Sam did, start pushing and arguing. Sammy was the younger one, but a damn schemer, and damn if he didn’t rub off on Dean every now and then. Sometimes it was better to keep them apart. It was important for them to be close, but it was more important for them to do as told. Dean needed to be in charge when John wasn’t around. Dean needed to be the boss, Sam needed to listen. 

Thing was, it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough. Sammy couldn’t hack the life, he went off to college. John drank more, Dean got quiet. Every week they were supposed to be done. Every week Sammy was supposed to get over it and come back. Every week it was supposed to change. 

Then this morning, John woke up seeing his boys older. 

He was thrilled and stunned and happy and a little disappointed. And Mary, _Mary_. Coming to account for all he did, for all he’d failed them, and she didn’t think twice, forgave him for all of it. 

He thought to ask Mary. But when they were alone, other things came to mind. 

But his sons. All these years later, still in the life, living, hunting together. It was never what he’d wanted for them. He always meant for it to be over someday. He always meant for them to get married, have kids of their own. John was admittedly a bit nonplussed to find them _still_ sticking together. Bile rose in his throat while they sat, fluidly around and with each other, too close, too familiar, too normal, wound too tight for too long and no longer even thinking about it. Tapping their chests and their thighs and their elbows and their faces, Dean laughing and touching Sam’s hair and oh god John knows Dean did that when they were kids but they weren’t kids anymore and they were too old to still be this way and all he could feel was disgust. 

How the hell did this happen? How the hell had they become _like this_?

His sons were still together. He talked to them, tried to catch himself up. Everything was together. The last 13 years had been together. Even alone, Dean talked about Sam, Sam talked about Dean. A lifetime together. Inches apart in the same car they’d grown up in, all their lives, too close too much, exchanging looks and messages and conversations in front of John’s face that John couldn’t understand. They’d had their own language as kids, but he was still close enough to understand it back then. Even when they were kids, sometimes John felt a little, well, _excluded_ , for lack of a better word, though it seemed so petty. Now, he was completely an outsider, an interloper, someone outside the unit, a guest in their world. Another burst of bile, realizing that probably, _everyone_ was a guest in their world. 

It wasn’t at all what John had wanted. 

Dean’s happiness, his pride in the life he built despite his old man, maybe a little bit of defiance when he looked him in the eye and said, “I have a family.” Yes, yes, he had Sam. He’d always had Sam, John thought he’d someday have someone else. 

But what the hell had he wanted? Twenty years on the road. Twenty years of “temporary”, of “watch out for your brother”, of “Mind Dean while I’m gone.” Twenty years of no friends, no girlfriends for more than a week, only one person for either of them to talk to. Twenty years of secrecy and loneliness and no one else knowing who they were.

Were they supposed to… switch it off? Just _stop?_ Just suddenly hop into normal friends and relationships and lives, after a lifetime on the outside? 

John hadn’t really thought about the future. Or maybe he did, but he pretended he wasn’t hurting his boys. Maybe he thought about a future as if his sons could just suddenly become different people, as if growing up the way they had didn’t affect them, as if it wasn’t a big deal. Maybe John had needed to believe something else. Not for the first time, he was hit with the sinking realization that he’d thought of himself more than them. That wasn’t how it was supposed to be. It was his fault.

He wasn’t going to say anything more about it. He could tell, Dean was happy to see him, but wasn’t going to humor this topic. Dean, young Dean would jump to obey John, to answer John’s questions, but this was an older Dean who was more loyal to someone else now. More loyal to his brother. John wasn’t the priority here, and he realized with another guilty jump in his stomach that he never should have been. 

He only had a short time to spend with them. He didn’t want to spend that time mad. 

So he’d eat dinner, with his _wife_ , with _their sons_ , in _their sons’_ home. Where they lived together. Where they lived their life, together. Where they stuck together. Where there was no room, no desire, no want or need, for anyone else. Older men, adult men, two old bachelors who stood too close together and touched each other too much and looked at each other too weird and were definitely not normal, well-adjusted people he’d raised. And there was only one person who made them that way.

That high-pitched revulsion was a feeling John would just have to deal with on his own. Suddenly, he felt like he deserved a little punishment. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading! As always, feedback is life!


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